Le Théâtre du Désir
by RampantMuses
Summary: All that you desire is yours at Le Théâtre du Désir.


_Le Théâtre du Désir_

Prologue

Hidden Oak Plantation

New Orleans, LA

5:30 p.m.

* * *

"Which do you prefer, darling, diamonds or pearls?" She inquired as she sat on their bed, examining a long strand of elegant pearls with a critical eye. He looked up from his copy of "The Telegraph", a smile curving his lips as he watched her. To the untrained eye, they were just a loving couple spending an evening in. To those who knew them well, they were preparing for a party.

"I love you in either, 'Dellia."He answered, earning a narrow glance over her shoulder for his inability to help her choose her jewelry for the evening. Tossing aside the newspaper, he unfolded his impressively tall frame from the chair he'd been occupying to join her on the bed. Sitting beside her, he took the pearls and slipped them over her head, watching as they fell seductively between her bare breasts.

"You do look exquisite in pearls, my love." He whispered tenderly, brushing his fingertips along her arms. She cooed softly at the touch of his hand, sliding over one thigh to lean back against his chest as his arms surrounded her. His palms skimmed over her soft belly to cup her breasts. His thumbs brushed over the pale pink nipples, finessing them into taut crests. She arched, offering more of her aching flesh to his expert touch.

"I'm beginning to wonder if it's a wise idea to have you choose my jewelry." She sighed, writhing against him as one hand released her breast. His lips brushed her ear as his palm slid down her belly. With a wicked chuckle, his fingers dipped beneath the waistband of her sheer, white lace panties.

"I'm just glad you value my opinion. Should I not be involved in helping my lover choose what adorns her gorgeous body?" He inquired, his teeth sinking lightly into the sensitive patch on the underside of her ear as his fingers eased her dampening petals open.

_"_Well now, since you put it that way, darling..._Oh, Stu_." She stammered, her dominant hand clasping over his, reveling in the sensations that his fingers wrought in her. Two thick fingers pressed gently into her satiny heat. His left hand still cupped one rounded globe, giving the needy flesh a gentle squeeze.

"You are gorgeous, Dellia. You're always so eager for me." He murmured tenderly, the pad of his thumb caressing slow circles over the tight bud of her clit. She gasped helplessly, her nails digging into his forearm. He groaned softly, the sharp pain entwining with growing pleasure that slid up his spine. Her head fell back, her auburn curls tumbling over his shoulder as she undulated under his masterful hand.

"I'll always be ready for you…" She promised, her words ending on a long moan. He chuckled softly, withdrawing his fingers from her dripping cleft. She whimpered in protest, pouting as he drew his honey coated fingers to his lips. She grew a little envious as he sucked her nectar from his fingers.

"You're not in a sharing mood tonight, are you?" She asked pointedly as he lapped away the last of her essence from his fingers. He gave her a wicked smile and took her chin between his thumb and forefinger.

"I'll always share with you; I just won't share you with anyone else." He purred, drawing her mouth to his, capturing her lips in a gentle kiss. Her tongue met his, tasting herself on his lips. She gave a soft sigh as he broke the kiss. With gentle hands he guided her to lie back on the bed. He aligned himself on his side, his left palm flat against her stomach.

"What if I ask you to share me with someone else?" She inquired sweetly. His jade eyes flicked to hers, a brow arched in inquiry. Now she had him curious. He decided to play it safe and answer her question with a question.

"With whom would you want me to share you?"

"No one has come forward with such a request that I know of." She teased, her hand reaching for his belt buckle. With a flick of the wrist, he caught her hand. What exactly was the little siren up to?

"Obviously there has been someone who's dared to think I would share you. Tell me who it is." He demanded quietly, his tone no longer joyful. Her delicate brows furrowed as she gave him an annoyed look. He ignored her, this time rolling atop her to pin her to the bed.

"Tell me." He ordered, one hand captured both of her slender wrists to pin them above her head. She wriggled under him, frustrated that he'd taken her verbal jesting a little too seriously. She had to end it.

"Green may be the color of your eyes, but I don't think it suits you to be envious. To be honest, I don't want to share you with anyone." She answered coolly, her eyes narrowing sharply. He arched over her, a scowl etched across his handsome features.

"Don't tease me like that." He spoke softly, expression serious. She wrested her wrist from his grasp and cupped his bristled cheek, her thumb brushing along his angular cheekbone. He couldn't stop the sigh that escaped him as he leaned into her touch. Sometimes, all it took was just the touch of her hand to soothe him. His lips brushed against her palm, pressing gentle kisses against her skin.

"You only tease the ones you love." She murmured, drawing his lips to hers. He gave a soft groan as her delicate tongue flickered softly the seam of his lips. He loved her eagerness to explore him. He gave her the opening she needed, his tongue remained still as hers stroked into his mouth.

He tasted of all things masculine, of Scotch and cigars. A soft whimper echoed from the back of her throat as the tip of her tongue grazed the edges of his teeth. He groaned softly, the leash of his tightly maintained control ready to snap at any second. His hand cupped the back of her neck, drawing her head away from him. She replied with a whimper of protest, her gold flecked blue eyes filled with confusion.

"Why'd you stop me?" She asked, the tone of her voice reflecting hurt. He cursed softly under his breath, calling himself ten kinds of a fool. He hadn't meant to momentarily wound her pride.

"Darling, had you gone any further, it would take all my strength and restraint to keep from just taking what I want." He murmured, tilting her head back, leaving the graceful arch of her neck bared to his hungry mouth. With his eyes meeting hers, he nibbled soft kisses, his dark growth of beard rasping against her skin. On a breathy moan, she reached for him; her fingers sank through his dark curls. She tugged softly, leading his lips to the right spot.

"Stu, you know you don't have to be gentle with me." Her body strained against his as his teeth sank into the soft spot behind her ear. He suckled it, marking her with each brutal pull of his mouth. His pulse pounded in his ears, fueling his desire to possess her fully. He didn't care how barbaric it was, he wanted everyone to know to whom Cordellia belonged.

"You are mine. You were the moment we were joined together on that stage in Paris." He whispered fiercely, his left hand pressing in between her thighs. She bucked her hips, writhing against his questing fingers. God, she loved it when he claimed her, she would never grow exhausted of it.

"_Oh mon Dieu, oui!_"

"Say it." He hissed, tearing the flimsy lace away from her with one smooth jerk. She arched, a breathless cry falling from her lips as he tossed scrap of cloth to the dark wood floor. His eyes met hers as his hand resumed its place between her thighs. With a wicked chuckle, he pressed two fingers into her dewy cleft, earning a soft cry from her.

"Say it, Cordellia. Tell me you're mine." He growled hotly, his fingers thrusting in measured and easy rhythm. The pad of his thumb circled gently over the silken pearl of her clit. She moaned, rolling her hips, thrusting against his fingers as she would his cock. It felt so good, too good to have him inside her. His right hand clasped around her throat, squeezing gently as his fingers moved. He wanted his answer and he would damn well get it.

"_Je suis à toi_!" Cordellia cried as his fingers squeezed again, a lighter grip. Stu drew his dominant hand away, brushing the backs of his fingers gently against the alabaster column of her throat. He arched over her, his lips meeting hers with a gentle kiss.

" _Tu es ma belle fille_." He whispered against her lips, the sharp edges of his teeth scraping tenderly along her jaw. She gazed up at him; her pupils were blown wide with her desire as she rode his hand. She was so close! She could taste the orgasm on her tongue. He grinned; her soft whimpers and pleas were melodic and sweet as he worked her over. He crooked his fingers; their calloused tips stroking along her silky passage, finding the bundle of nerves secreted within her.

"Stu, _s'il vous plaît_!"

"So close aren't you, my darling? You want to come?" His voice as smooth as silk as his fingers thrust harder, finding just the right angle. Cordellia bucked, her body writhing restlessly against the onslaught. His thumb pressed against her clit, finessing the tight point as his fingertips tapped a gentle rhythm. He couldn't suppress the smile as her channel clamped tight around his digits. She was close, so blessedly close.

"Yes, please! Stu, don't tease me!"

She writhed helplessly, unable to take much more. He gave her a feral smile as he extracted his slick fingers from her delicate heat; her groan of distress made the dimples at the corners of his mouth stand out as his wicked grin deepened.

"_Tsk, tsk_. Get on your hands and knees and I'll give you what you want." He ordered quietly, slipping off the bed, allowing her the room to move where and however she wished. Her face drew into a moue of annoyance, showing her displeasure of being deprived of the orgasm she craved. His brow arched in response as he turned, flicking the button of his trousers open and lowered the zipper. With swift movements, he shucked off his black boxer briefs and trousers, kicking them to the side.

The sight that greeted his eyes when he turned back sent another rush of blood to his already throbbing cock. Cordellia had taken a creative approach his order for her to be on her hands and knees. While she remained on her knees, legs splayed wide to bare her glistening folds to his eyes, her upper body lay flush against the bed with her head pillowed on her folded arms. He gritted his teeth, fighting every selfish desire to plunge into her.

"Hmm, this doesn't look like hands and knees, but it bares you to me with such aching perfection I won't punish you too much." He mused, his fingers tracing over the sleek, throbbing tissue. She moaned, arching her back, offering not only her pussy but the plump roundness of her bottom. He grinned,bringing his fingers to his lips, sucking away her liquid passion. His left hand gently cupped the lush curve of her ass, giving the flesh a light squeeze before bringing his right hand down sternly against her creamy skin. Her sharp cries sounded sweet to his ears as he laid blow after blow against her voluptuous bottom.

"_Qui est-ce qui vous donne tant de plaisir_?"

" _Vous faites_..."

"_Je ne peux pas vous entendre. Qui est celui qui vous donne du plaisir, Cordellia?"_

"_Vous! Vous faites!"_ She sobbed, her body bowing, pressing deeper into the mattress. Good heavens, was she getting wetter just from his punishing blows? She marveled at this, wondering how it could be that she got so much pleasure from punishment. A helpless whimper left her lips as the blows came less and less, until all she could feel was the balm of his touch over her reddened flesh. She pressed back with a sigh as he caressed her, his fingers trailing along the flushed curve of her ass and finding her opulent flesh all but dripping with her readiness.

"_Quelqu'un aime être puni, n'est-ce pas la vérité_?" He murmured as he lightly brushed his fingers over her sodden folds. His brows rose in question as she moaned; just how close was she to coming for him? His fingers worked fast, thrusting gently as the pad of his thumb flickered quickly over her throbbing clit. Her delicate walls clamped hard around his fingers, giving him the answer he needed.

Cordellia gasped, her body all but quivering from the intensity of pleasure. He withdrew, his hand coated by her fluid desire. He locked his fingers around his turgid cock, stroking slowly, covering his heated skin with her silken release.

"_Merci beaucoup!_" Her voice quavered slightly, tensing as he knelt up behind her, stroking the silken crown over her pulsing flesh. He pressed into her, palming the soft flesh of her hips as he filled her to the hilt. Cordellia pressed her cheek to the soft duvet, gasping as she felt his pulse through his cock buried deep inside her.

"Don't move, please!" She begged, rolling her hips, nestling the voluptuous globes of her ass against his heavy thighs. With a hungry growl, he leaned over her, brushing a trail of kisses along her delicately curved spine, his whiskered jaw whispering against her skin. His fingers sank into her silky auburn curls, tugging her head up to bare her neck to his lips.

"I can only keep my control for so long, especially when your sweet pussy is squeezing my cock. I'll have to move some time." He purred against her ear, nipping at the soft flesh of her earlobe. She squirmed, the liquid roll of her hips earning a deep groan of pleasure.

"Hell's teeth! Stop that, you little minx." He demanded sharply, his hand gripping into her hair, giving a hard pull. She gave a squeak of protest as pain entwined with pleasure streaked along her spine.

"Just say the word, I'll give you want you want."

She gave a frustrated groan, wanting so badly for him to move yet knew he wouldn't move a fraction of an inch until she'd begged him to fuck her. He chuckled softly as he arched, covering her with himself. His skin glided against hers, surprisingly soft.

"Come now, we've been through this before. Why be so obstinate? The pleasure you want is yours to have, all you have to do is say the word." He murmured teasingly, nibbling kisses gently along the nape of her neck. A soft noise emanated from her back her throat in lieu of answer.

"So stubborn and proud you are. I wonder how much it would take before you finally submit." He crooned softly, rolling his hips forward, his languid thrust taking her by surprise. Her moan of desperation made him smile as he went absolutely still. She had, after all, told him not to move.

"Stuart..." Her voice implored as she pressed back against the cradle of his thighs. A wicked smile curved his lips as he gripped her hips, holding her in place. His palms filled with the rounded flesh of her bottom. His fingers flexed, squeezing one plump globe as he withdrew from her slick heat. Her moan of protest turned to a sharp cry as he plunged forward, his pace fluid and slow. He bit back a feral smile, delivering a slow series of thrusts designed to have her begging. Her soft lusty moan echoed lightly off the high ceiling.

Yet she still wouldn't beg; frustrated with her refusal to comply, his hand fisted in her hair, jerking her head up as he withdrew.

"Come now; tell me how you want me? Do want me rough? Or do you want me slow and gentle?" He inquired, rubbing the blunt head of his cock against her slick folds, teasing over the throbbing bud of her clit. She buried her face in her arms; the urge to scream in frustration was more than she could bear. Yet, she dare not scream.

"No! Take me hard, please!" Stuart growled in satisfaction, the sound bordering on bestial. She welcomed him, her silken walls sheathing him, clinging to each inch of him. He withdrew until only the plum-shaped head of his cock remained. On a wicked growl, he snapped his hips forward, filling her to the brim. She cried out in relief as he moved, the sound swallowed by the duvet as he drove into her. Her left hand clenched tight as he thrust hard and deep inside her. Without shame or compunction, her right hand moved slowly between her legs, finding her pulsing clit.

He watched her, holding back a groan as her delicate fingers stroked and teased. He had to admit that he definitely enjoyed the fact that she wasn't shy about finding her release. Just watching her fingers stroking her clit made his balls tighten painfully; his hips pistoned faster, causing him to grit his teeth. He did not want to lose control, not now.

"Stuart! I'm…"

"Yes, my little minx, come for me." He commanded, his voice hoarse as her tightness milked him, clamping down around him. Her cries echoed off the ceiling, her body bowed as wave upon wave of pleasure surged through her. With a growl of pleasure, he spilled into her, emptying into her welcoming body. Draping himself over her back, an arm around her waist, he spooned her against him.

They lay still, remaining silent as they relaxed in the bliss of afterglow. His hand stroked her belly, lips pressed against her shoulder. She smiled as her breathing slowed, not wanting to destroy the post coital serenity that surrounded them. Finally, Cordellia lifted her head, tilting herself to catch his gaze.

"I think a proper shower is needed. We're both a mess." She stated crisply, earning his deep, booming laugh in reply. He nipped her shoulder, kissing the light red bite mark as he extracted himself from her. Frowning, she turned to object, then bit back a shriek as he scooped her up and carried her from the bedroom suite into the palatial bathroom.

* * *

The French Quarter

New Orleans, LA.

Le Théâtre du Désir

8:45 P.M.

Everything was a blur of action. Seated in front of the gilded vanity, she pushed aside her sleek bangs as the Glam Squad, as she called them, set about putting the final finishing touches on her makeup and hair. She could honestly say she'd never put this much effort into making herself look gorgeous. Her whole day had been filled with a beauty regiment that was as unfamiliar to her as Greek; a massage here, mani/pedi combo there, and thankfully for her, she'd already taken care of the waxing. She sat, nude under the silky blue robe, wondering why all this care had to be taken. It was just a club,wasn't it?

A sudden hush descended on the Glam Squad, who quickly moved away from her. Her eyes of gray-blue looked into the mirror to see the woman in gold. Her abundant fall of auburn curls had been piled atop her head in an elegant fashion, a few tendrils escaping the network of jeweled pins that held it in place. She also noticed a telltale dark bruise under her right ear. She wore a mask of white and gold filigree, adorned with crystals, and set off by a brilliant plume of curling white and gold tinged feathers.

She wore few jewels; why would this woman even need jewels? Her mask and white floor length gown were enough to turn heads. Her eyes took in the wide cap sleeves, scooping neckline, the figure hugging design of the gown lead from her seemingly diminutive waist to full trumpet skirt. The white gown, with its golden lace overlay, was more than enough ornamentation than a whole box of sparkling jewels. A sudden surge of nervous self-doubt welled up deep within her. How could she even possibly compete with this woman? It made her swallow as she approached with an ornate box. Without a word, the lady in white placed the box beside her on the vanity, opening the lid to reveal the mask within. With trembling hands, she lifted the delicate creation out of its home. The curling plumes of light and dark blue feathers seemed to bloom from the right curving side of the Rondine mask. It only covered half of her face in tones of shimmering turquoise blue and gold with matching ribbons. With a voice soft and sweet, she spoke.

"Here, allow me."

She just sat as the lady tied the mask tightly, making sure the delicate creation that she now donned wouldn't fall. She turned, ready to thank the woman, but found the Glam Squad back in control and pulling her robe off her. Struggling, she drew her arms out of the sleeves to cover her bare breasts. How dare they just undress her without her consent!

"It's alright."

"No, it's not alright! They…"

"Trust me, darling, it's alright. I've been in the same position you're in now. You're scared, nervous, and even, dare I say, a little excited. Trust me; I've felt what you're feeling now. Once you step on that stage, once your partner joins you, all your self-conscious worries will leave. He will guide you and you in turn will guide him."

"Guide him how?" Her voice sounded small in the seemingly cavernous space. The woman only smiled as she came forward, unfolding her defensive arms placing them at her sides. She held her hands, giving them a reassuring squeeze before she let her go.

"On what pleases you most. You are a gorgeous creature; don't doubt that for a moment. Are you ready?"

Swallowing back her doubts and fears, she nodded and followed the lady in white out of the room.

* * *

I hope you have enjoyed Le Théâtre du Désir! Thank you to those who have been waiting to see this one, it has been a very long time coming, but I am glad to share this with you!

French Translations in Order (Thanks to Google Translate):

_Oh my God, yes!_

_I am yours!_

_You're my beautiful girl._

_Stu, please!_

_Who is it that gives you so much pleasure?_

_You/You do!_

_I can not hear you. Who is it that gives you pleasure, Cordellia?_

_You! You do!_

_Someone likes to be punished, is not that the truth?_

_Thank you very much!_


End file.
